


Take me home (part 6)

by lorinhazuzu



Series: Take me home [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorinhazuzu/pseuds/lorinhazuzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is barely into his teens when he finds out that his feelings for Louis are not so platonic after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me home (part 6)

Oh, he’s nice to her. Polite, sweet even, and she is too (mostly) but Harry doesn’t doubt that as she’s talking to him, she’s imagining all the methods of torture she knows of to use on him because he’s doing exactly the same thing.

But there’s a hitch, as there usually is.

The problem resides on the fact that Louis likes Eleanor, as in, they are actually friends. The boys don’t seem to mind her either, but what bothers Harry is that Louis likes her. Likes her.

Harry hates life a little bit.

 

She has always been around though neither he or the others had ever taken much notice of her. This year however, things had changed, gradually, slowly, but Harry had noticed it right from the beginning: he’d started seeing her around a lot more, coming up to them to say ‘hi’ to Louis in that high, girly, utterly annoying voice of hers.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed her.

Louis had started smiling at her in a way that Harry didn’t like at all; that charming, quirky smile that Harry was very possessive of, and afterwards she’d go away to do whatever it was she did when she wasn’t annoying the life out of Harry, (really, she did that so frequently that Harry wondered how there could be enough hours in the day for her to do anything else. Could she even do something else?) Louis would get that congratulatory look from Zayn and a smug smile would make its ways to Louis’ lips. 

Harry didn’t like that smile all that much.

As if the fates had decided to punish him for all his wrong-doings at once, both Louis and Eleanor had been assigned a project to do together.

So yeah, Harry hated her, and he hated life, and the feelings definitely weren’t one-sided.

They are seated at the cafeteria on some rainy January day, the four of them together as usual, when she comes along, which sadly, isn’t a rare enough occurrence, but considering their project had been done the day before and handed in this morning, Harry just couldn’t fathom what in the world the girl was doing standing in front of them, whilst grinning too brightly and showing too much teeth.

It’s with a jolt that he realizes as he looks sideways, that Louis is grinning just as stupidly big back at her, and the two other boys are smirking around their food.

He knows exactly what they are suggesting and it bugs him. Really, really, bugs him.

Honestly, she’s not even that pretty.

“Hey Louis” she says, twirling a lock of her muddy brown hair in between too skinny fingers.

“Hey El, wanna sit down?” Louis asks her, missing the way Harry snaps his head around to look at him (nearly giving himself some whiplash) because he’s too busy staring at the girl in front of him.

Ridiculous.

From then on, she always sits with them; on the other side of Louis, always too close, always too saccharine sweet, so kind to him in front of Louis, and so glaring and hateful as soon as Louis turns his back.

Harry took pleasure on the expression on her face every day when Louis would throw his arm around his shoulders.

She, on the other hand, loved to mention things they did together,(and there were apparently a lot more than Louis told him about) or things they watched, or things they heard or ate, inside jokes. The list was endless, and as she talked she’d give Harry smug looks that made Harry clench his teeth together so hard he almost felt them cracking.

Still he tried not to let it get to him so much, mostly because every day Louis would come over to his house to pick him up and walk him home at the end of the day.

He’d come over to his house after school and they’d waste the hours away having fun together.

Even lunches and break-times weren’t that bad, though Eleanor was always there. Sometimes they were actually quite good, like today for example.

“We should do something” Louis says determinedly and the others nod to show their agreement, but Harry is shaking his head, stubborn.

“I don’t want to Lou” he says, his voice a mix between firm and desperate.

Louis turns sideways on his seat to look at Harry, hands on his shoulder leaning in so close that it makes Harry giggle nervously.

“What do you wanna do Haz?” Louis asks, expression very serious.

“Harry shrugs, “what we do every year. I wanna stay home and play video games (he’d given up actual football months ago only to find out that he absolutely excelled at Fifa)

The words are just barely out of his mouth when there’s a very dramatic groan coming from Louis’ other side.

“Ugh, but that will be so boring!” She complains in her whiny voice, and Harry might just have taken this insult (she’s very good at subtly insulting him) to heart, when Louis turns his back on him to look at her.

“It’s Hazza’s birthday, and if that’s what Harry wants, that’s what he gets” he says firmly, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulder, winking playfully at the younger boy and making Harry get a very strange feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Harry throws his arms around Louis’ neck in a grateful hug, sending his own smug look at the put out looking girl while at it.

It’s easy to ignore the whining coming from the ridiculously pouty, excessively shiny lips for the rest of the day.

But of course there are also the bad days. The days when Louis and Eleanor come into the hall hurriedly, only to tell them that they absolutely aced their project, and Louis will throw his arm around her enthusiastically and keep it there. Days where it’ll be hard to ignore the sly look she sends his way whenever Louis puts his arm around her instead of him. Days where he’ll go home by himself only to stare at himself at the mirror, so frustrated, and grab bits of his chubby sides with the memory of the skinny girl with his best friend’s arm around her, engraved in his mind. Days where he’ll be lonely or sad, because “why is she better than me?” and “what does she have that I don’t?” He’ll remember the fact that she is a she and snort disgusted because as impossible as it seems, Louis now has a different favourite person and it hurts being pushed down to second place.

And then there are those days, days where he’s just hurt. Whenever Louis talks to him at school he always seems distracted, and whenever Eleanor shows up, his attention completely shifts towards her. Niall’s noticed; they had always been close, and Niall had always been more perceptive than he let on.

He starts to throw him concerned looks that he’d ignore whenever she showed up but he never pries; prying just wasn’t a Niall thing.

Louis doesn’t walk him to school or from school anymore and he doesn’t come over to hang out and he doesn’t call.

To Harry it seems like Louis simply doesn’t care anymore.

So yeah, it hurts.

Harry doesn’t expect Louis to show up on his birthday. Niall, Zayn and he have been hanging out just the three of them a lot lately, and even Zayn stopped finding any fun in the situation. He had always been closer to Louis, but ever since Louis had ditched them Harry and Zayn had a chance to hang out together a lot more, so there was at least one good thing to come out of this situation. Still, Harry knows that Zayn misses Louis too.

The three of them are in the kitchen, Niall and Zayn both sat watching Harry bake his birthday cake.

Louis was usually the one to take care of the cake, but because he hadn’t been around lately, Niall had offered to get it himself. Instead, Harry had decided to bake his own cake, he liked baking, and this way he’d have the opportunity of shoving a few dozens of M&M’s in there, he was quite aware his skin would go to hell soon, so he thought he might as well enjoy the privileges of almost-adolescence while it lasted.

To his surprise and absolute displeasure, Louis does show up, Eleanor following close behind.

He’s turned away when they arrive, busy taking the cake out of the oven so he doesn’t see them. He notices, however, how the conversation dies very suddenly, and he turns around, tray in his hands and smile dying in his face as soon as he sees them.

What follows is a heavy silence that lasts much longer than Harry is comfortable with.

“Lou! What’re you doing here?” Niall finally breaks the silence to Harry’s immense relief. He breaths out, broken out of his paralysed state, and sets the tray on the counter, bringing out the pack of M&M’s to throw them on top of the cake.

He stays silent, for the first time not knowing what to say to Louis.

Louis for his part seems completely oblivious to the very obvious tension in the room.

“What do you mean?” Louis tilts his head to the side in confusion as he pulls a grumpy looking Eleanor into the room. “It’s Hazza’s birthday” he grins out, moving forward to pull a stiff Harry into a hug.

Arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, Harry wonders what happened to his Louis. This one, hugging him seems a lot like him, but Harry knows that his Louis would never completely forget about him for three weeks because of some annoying doe eyed, brunette girl.

“Happy birthday Hazza!” Louis pulls away grinning, “so are we playing some video games or what?”

Like a whirlwind he comes and goes so fast Harry can barely keep up with it, and this time Louis is not there holding his hand to help him along.

Harry exchanges a wary look with both Zayn and Niall, and the look on their faces only serve to confirm his suspicions that this day is not going to end well.

Leaving the cake to cool down, the three of them walk together into the living room where Eleanor is sitting on the couch, arms crossed and a deep frown on her face.

“Well, come on then” Louis hurries them along from his place on the floor where he’s finished setting up the video game and already has a controller in hands. He always did like to go first. 

There’s a quick silent exchange between Niall and Harry before the blue-eyed boy moves to sit next to Louis.

Louis throws Harry an odd look, but turns back to the tv quickly when he hears the game starting.

It’s not fun.

Eleanor sits stiffly on the couch frowning and complaining every two and a half minutes, Zayn and Harry sit squished on the armchair, neither one of them wanting to come even close to the girl, though she’s spread out on the empty couch by hersef.

Niall is sitting on the floor still, right next to Louis, but looks slightly uncomfortable about it, especially as Louis is the only one talking. He whoops and cheers as the game goes on, turning to look back at Harry who quickly averts his gaze back to the tv.

When they tire of playing, or when Harry tires of the awkward situation, they move back to the kitchen to eat the cake while Louis rushes upstairs to go to the loo.

Nobody says anything as Harry cuts up the cake to serve them, no candles or singing happy birthday or the first piece of cake tradition they’ve always done.

By the time Louis gets back, he too is frowning and he stops by the door watching the four of them as they eat in the ever present silence.

“You didn’t wait for me to sing happy-birthday?” he crosses his arms, and without looking up, Harry answers curtly “we didn’t”.

There are days where he’s just angry and this is turning out to be one of them.

“Sing happy birthday that is” Niall amends quickly, but the damage’s been done.

Frowning Louis walks into the kitchen and he must have seen the boy’s backpacks upstairs because the next thing he says is, “you guys are sleeping over” he looks at Niall and Zayn when he says this, not bothering to hide the accusing tone of his voice, and the fact that what he’s really saying is “Why am I not?”

When neither boy answers his not-quite-question, he turns his eyes on Harry, who only looks back defiantly.

“You should probably take Eleanor home” he says instead, and just as he sees Louis rearing back to protest (the fact that she is apparently not invited to stay either or the fact that Harry is not so subtly asking him out, he doesn’t know) Eleanor cuts in, groaning out a “yes, please!”

Annoyed and incented Harry turns on her, “if you didn’t want to come so bad why did you? Nobody wanted you here!” he snaps angrily, and ignoring Louis’ cry of “Harry!” he thunders out of the room, footsteps heavy on the staircase, and slams his door behind him, heaving from his rage.

He’s just barely stepped away from the door when it’s thrown open again.

“What was that Harry?” he walks into the room, looking at Harry as if he’s something he’s never seen before.

Harry shrugs, stubbornly not saying anything.

“Why did you say that to El?” he persists, but Harry turns his back on him, anger fading as quickly as it had come, “go away Louis” he says quietly, he’s hurt and disappointed and confused and tired and usually Louis is the one he goes to for help, but this time he’s the one causing it.

The room is quiet for so long, Harry thinks Louis left, but then there’s a pressure on his shoulder and he’s being turned around.

“Haz…what’s wrong?” he asks carefully, voice soft again, and Harry looks up at Louis, seeing that tender look Louis’ giving him that Harry’s missed so much.

When Harry doesn’t say anything, Louis goes on, “you’ve been grumpy all day. You barely talked to me and didn’t tell me about the sleep over. You didn’t hug me.”

Oh, so he noticed that.

Pleased, Harry starts to say something, but Louis is not finished yet, “and then you said that to El. She was really trying you know?”

Harry blinks, wrenches himself out of Louis’ grip, “I’ve been grumpy?! Really Louis?” tears sting his eyes and Harry rubs at them angrily before they can make their way down.

“Haz – “

“Don’t call me that! You disappear for weeks, barely saying a word to me. You don’t come over or hang out with us anymore, you completely forgot about my cake” he takes a deep breath; continues, “so really, it’s your own fault you didn’t know about staying over” he finishes the speech much quicker than he thought he would, but the truth is he doesn’t really know how to put into words how much Louis’ hurt him.

He looks up into Louis’ stricken face and with only a little tinge of guilt, tells him to get out once again.

“Back to your stupid girlfriend” he grumbles the last bit to himself but knows Louis’ heard him.

He can hear Louis gasping in surprise behind him, but ignores it, throwing himself on his bed, face deep into his pillow.

Soon later he feels the bed dip, the pillow being pulled away from him so they’re left staring at each other, much like they used to when they were younger, and before Eleanor had showed up.

“Haz” he starts, hand reaching out to play with Harry’s hair, and out of habit Harry leans into it. “you’re jealous of her? Of El?” he asks, tentative, and maybe Harry is really going crazy, but he thinks that there’s a hopeful tone to Louis’ voice that wasn’t there before.

Still, all Harry really focuses on is the nickname. Harry hates that nickname just as much as he hates the girl.

“Don’t rub it in” he grumbles. Of course he’s jealous of her, she’s annoyingly pretty and stupidly skinny and Louis likes her like he used to like Harry.

“I’m not Hazza” Louis chides pulling him closer, so they’re touching from head to foot, Harry’s face tucked under Louis’ chin. “What I’m saying… is that you shouldn’t be jealous of her”

Harry makes a little noise of disbelief and Louis hurries to explain.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of Haz”. Before Harry can look up to show Louis his incredulous expression, Louis continues, “she’s not my girlfriend”

“Why not?” Harry doesn’t miss a beat, still suspicious, Louis wouldn’t lie to him, but this can’t be right.

“Well, because I don’t like her like that” with his fingers playing with the fabric of Louis’ sweater, Harry wonders how Louis can not like her like that.

“She’s really pretty” he admits quietly and Louis hums out his agreement.

“So?” he asks as if being so ridiculously perfect was the most common thing ever.

What Harry really wants to ask is, ‘if she’s so pretty, and you still don’t like her, how could you ever like me?’ but he swallows the words back down. “you like her more than you like me” he says instead.

Louis makes an odd sound at the back of his throat, but Harry continues, absent-minded, “you don’t care about me anymore” he says sadly, with a fist full of Louis’ sweater.

“Haz! That’s not true!” Louis squeezes him tight, and Harry goes willingly, but his silence shows his skepticism.

“It’s not!” he insists, “you’re my favourite person remember? Hmm” he nudges him, trying to get a reaction out of Harry.

“I am?” his voice is small, and this time he doesn’t try to look up at Louis, afraid to see his face.

“Of course you are.”

“But what about Eleanor?” Harry asks confused, deciding at the back of his mind that he really doesn’t like saying her name.

“She… she was going to be my girlfriend. But not anymore”

Pushing the sting those words bring him, Harry presses “why not?”

“Do you want her to be my girlfriend?”

“No!” Harry answers quickly, looking at Louis startled before hiding his face on the curve of Louis’ neck again, missing the pleased smile on Louis’ face.

“I don’t want you to have a girlfriend” he adds quietly, too insecure to say what he’s really thinking. No he doesn’t want Louis to have a girlfriend. He doesn’t want to feel jealous anymore, doesn’t want to share Louis.

Louis smiles, “okay,” he agrees easily. A bit too easily.

“Really?” Louis nods. Harry would feel a bit guilty about his request (demand really), except Louis is still smiling happily down at him, so he lets it go.

“Just you and me then?” he asks hopefully, wanting reassurance.

“Just you and me Haz”

Content, Harry snuggles in again, and they stay in silence for a few minutes, a very different kind of silence than the one before.

A while later Harry remembers the girl, who is probably still downstairs.

“Lou, aren’t you going to take her home?” but at that, Louis only moves closer, “nah, she can walk by herself”

Harry smiles, forgetting al about the annoyingly pretty, stupidly skinny girl downstairs.


End file.
